


Deja Vu

by Missfoxx21



Series: Return of Romelle [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altea and Pollux, Gen, Jealousy, Pre-Episode 1, Rivals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7402303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missfoxx21/pseuds/Missfoxx21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allura stared at her dark reflection. Bright blue eyes with pink-rimmed pupils met her own. "Cousin." She said, haltingly, as if she couldn't trust her voice or her eyes or her very mind.</p><p>Her double nodded, slow. Her eyes. Their eyes, narrowed. "Cousin." The voice confirmed, identical to her own and dripping with venom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deja Vu

**Author's Note:**

> For an RP group I'm in, I'll be playing a new version of Romelle. I decided it was high time to write out some of her and Allura's shared backstory to make playing her easier. For the music that really inspired this work: https://youtu.be/qUiRhJgD76E and Art credits to skybluescarf.tumblr.com. Give them a look!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Allura stared at her dark reflection. Bright blue eyes with pink-rimmed pupils met her own. "Cousin." She said, haltingly, as if she couldn't trust her voice or her eyes or her very mind.

Her double nodded, slow. Her eyes. Their eyes, narrowed. "Cousin." The voice confirmed, identical to her own and dripping with venom.

* * *

 

It had started long before either of their births. Pollux was a planet not far from Altea. Just as many resources and just as capable of supporting life, but not quite settled. Altea's glowing twin planet, they flocked in droves to claim land for themselves. The royal family of Altea, Prince Alfor and his younger brother Corba, spoke at length as to who was to rule the new colony. Both men were still young and both pleaded with their father for a chance to take over this new land, to bring it up right in the Altean way.

The ruling king decided that Alfor was to remain behind. Corba would rule the new land and become the reigning King of Pollux. And it was good.

For a time.

Soon, those who lived on Pollux were called unrefined, undignified. Savages. 

The land was harsh and needed taming. The people lost interest in more elegant pursuits in the name of building from the ground up. Those who remained on Altea called them dirty and thugs. Altean criminals were sent to Pollux. Exiled into the wilds. Left and abandoned.

King Alfor, still young and inexperienced, bought into the rumors. His jealousy of Corba fueled him. He left Pollux on its own and waited for it to fail. His closest ally, Zarkon, the Paladin of the Black Lion, asked him to reconsider.

"Enemies could use their ire against you, my King," He said, concerned. He placed his hand on Alfor's shoulder. "You could lose your greatest ally...and your brother."

Alfor had shrugged him off. He muttered about "what would Galra know about matters such as these?" more to himself. He forgot how good their hearing can be.

In Zarkon's heart, a seed of anger that had been planted years ago sprouted a bit more.

* * *

 

Allura was only a child when she met her cousin for the first time. They had eerily similar facial features. If not for Romelle's darker hair, cut short, they would be twins. Though Romelle's eyes were harsher. She tugged at her dress and made a face. Often when she walked, she would trip on it, as if she was not used to wearing such long, decorative clothes. Her expression was sour. Like the blamed Allura for her predicament.

As Corba and Alfor spoke quietly on their own, their mothers tried to soothe them. Allura pouted at her mother. "Why do I have to play with her?" she had asked. She glared at her cousin who had tripped once more, grass stains on her peach dress. "She's so...dirty."

It was like a switch had flipped. Romelle was atop her and she was on her back. She cried out as Romelle pulled her hair. She pulled and pulled and pulled and it was only when her mother managed to separate them that Allura knew it was safe to cry. 

"How dare you?!" screamed Romelle, her eyes full of hurt, angry, frustrated tears. "I'll show you dirty, you spoiled brat!"

Allura clutched her mother tighter, frightened. 

* * *

 

They met again when they were teenagers. They studied together. Took lessons together. Learned to fight together.

While Allura was better at diplomacy, poise lessons, politics, and history, Romelle was the superior fighter. She was also more popular. While she was a bit bratty and vain, she attracted people like moths to a flame. It made Allura sick. Romelle would smirk at her from across the courtyard, her arms around whoever Allura was most interested in. Her lips on theirs, their loving smile directed at her and her alone. It made her want to scream.

It seemed like everything Allura did, Romelle had to try to beat her at it. Romelle studied harder and started getting better marks. Allura focused more in training but she'd wake at night and see Romelle alone in the courtyard. A sword in one hand and a pistol in the other as she went after the training dummies. Again and again, she'd attack and shoot and practice and then she'd study for hours.

Allura scoffed. Soon, even the ones who liked Romelle got sick of her. After all, even if she was pretty or strong or a hard worker. She was still just a Polluxian. An imitation. A copy of Allura. 

When the war with the Galra began, Romelle was pulled from school. She wondered why, until she saw her again.

Romelle and the rest of the royal family of Pollux in galra colors. They stood with Zarkon on a holoscreen that was broadcast to all of Altea. Romelle's eyes were cold and full of fury. Allura could have sworn she was looking at her. Zarkon called for surrender. Alfor refused. 

Romelle said nothing but placed a hand on her younger brother's shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. Allura hid.

* * *

 

She remembered the night that Romelle's escape pod crashed into the castle. Fighters pursued her and the battered castle defenses tried to fight them off. Romelle stumbled in, her arms full of diagrams and plans and secrets of the Galra's plans tumbled from her lips. Her eyes were full of tears. Alfor took her into another room and comforted her. Allura could only watch and glare. Did her father really trust that traitor? After everything that had happened?

Romelle was oddly subdued after that. She didn't rise to any challenges or insults. She only watched. Eyes cold. Empty. Her voice still dripped with venom when she spoke to Allura but there were no fangs. 

Another package arrived. Romelle's parents' heads were contained within. She screamed and locked herself away. Alfor grieved and held Allura close. No one knew or spoke of Bandor. His fate was still unknown.

Even so, Allura didn't trust Romelle fully. She still wore the colors of Galra. She had other dresses. Other colors. But she wore Red and Purple and Black.

Allura remarked she looked like a Galra bride. Romelle said nothing. She only stared at Allura like she wanted her to burn. Allura walked away first.

* * *

 

Voltron was gone, the pieces split apart. Romelle watched as Alfor and Coran placed Allura in the cryo-pod. "So." She said, her eyes on his. "You are choosing to stay and die, Uncle?"

He nodded and she glared at him. He smiled and ruffled her hair. She leaned into his hand. "Yes, dear niece."

"Then I am staying with you. I need to make up for this. I need to make it right."

He took her shoulders in his hands. She batted them away and he knew he couldn't pull the same trick twice. "No, Romelle. I have a different task for you in mind. When Allura awakens, she will need someone to look after her. To help her."

Romelle shook her head, her eyes filled with tears. "No! Not her! I want to fight by your side, Uncle! Until the end!" He approached her and she backed away, her eyes flicked from his hands to his face. He sighed.

"Alright. I promise, I will join you as soon as the Paladins report back that the lions are hidden. Go to the extra tower through the hidden passage. I will be there soon."

She nodded and rushed off. He closed his eyes, then jerked his head. Coran frowned but followed. He kept his movements concealed.

He hoped he lived long enough to apologize to her.

* * *

 

The Castle of Lions, once all the Paladins had been found again, stopped in the middle of an asteroid field. One that existed just outside of what remained of Allura's home star system. They picked up a beacon for a small craft. One that was over 10,000 years in age.

The lions retrieved it and brought it back. Allura gasped. She entered the small craft and there, at the top of a winding staircase, was a room containing a single cryopod. With a shaking hand, she opened the pod. Coran rushed to catch the occupant as she fell.

Romelle pushed away from Allura and stood. Poison in her gaze. Her gown in the colors of the Galra. Her hair short and dark. 

Allura wanted to hug her. She wanted to cry. One more Altean.

The Altean that hated her more than anyone in the universe.

"It is good to-"

"-Save the niceties for people who do not know you as well." Romelle's eyes glanced over the gathered Paladins. "I assume they were the only ones available? The lions must be desperate."

She ignored any protests or complaints. Her cold eyes on Allura's. Allura was frightened.

Romelle walked closer.

Allura flinched.

Romelle stopped. Her expression empty save for the hate. No. Hurt. She turned and walked through the Paladins.

"I will not be here for long. I have other work to do. Your father gave me a mission and I intend to fulfill it." 

She would protect precious, perfect Allura. She would keep her safe. But from a distance. 

It was easier to avoid getting trapped in the cycle if they didn't speak.

Romelle still wore Galra colors. She had sins to cleanse. She had reparations to make. She had to save this universe that her family had doomed. She could not afford to forget.

Allura let her go. Her throat was clogged with shame. She had to fix this. Somehow. Someway.

She refused to be a slave to their old patterns again. Not here. Not now.


End file.
